


Anything Special

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, caring Greg, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: For the prompt;Mycroft feels like he has lost control over everything in his life after the events at Sherrinford. Lestrade, doing a bit more than Sherlock suggested, drops by Mycroft’s house to see how he is doing and stays on to keep him company.





	Anything Special

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by sherlockian4evr

Greg watched Sherlock and John leave the drive of the old Holmes manor without so much as a look back. The car Anthea had sent to pick the boys up had disappeared from view and the DI sighed. 

He knew he should begin the drive to the Diogenes club. By the time he reached it in the middle of London, it was likely Mycroft would already have made it back. 

Sighing, he ordered his men to pack up and head out. So he could climb into his car to drive on his own. 

He made it to the Diogenes in just over an hour. As he walked through the club towards Mycroft’s office, he realised the older man had beaten him to it. 

“Mycroft,” he prompted from the door, with a sharp knock 

The government official was bent over his desk, his head in his hands, only looking up at Greg’s words. 

“Gregory.” Mycroft got to his feet immediately, “How’s Sherlock? Where is he?”

“He’s gone to hospital.”

It was clear Mycroft panicked immediately, having not been involved in the last stretch of his sister’s plan. “I-”

“Nothing serious. It was John’s idea. To check what your sister drugged him with.”

“Right. They’re both ok?”

“She put John in a well... he found Redbeard.”

Mycroft swallowed and looked away. “He knows?” He choked out. Realising how clever Eurus’ plan had been as a child... With that song. 

Greg took a cautious step into the room. “He’s not mad at you,” he reassured, he’d seen the look on the older man’s face many times before and knew it straight away. 

“How can he not be?” 

“He gets it.” By this point he’d reached the desk and Mycroft had fallen back into his seat. 

“How can he possibly understand? It was his dead dog 24 hours ago.”

Greg sighed and perched on the edge of the desk. “I think you underestimate him.”

The government official looked up at the DI. “He’s my baby brother.”

“Yeah. And you’re always the smart one?”

Mycroft smirked slightly, letting his mouth curl up a little. “Not anymore,” he said eventually. 

“Sitting here isn’t helping you.”

“Why are you here, Gregory?”

The DI tipped his head on one side. “Why do you think?”

“Sherlock. Did he tell you to?” The idea itself was extraordinary. 

“He wanted me to look after you were his words.”

“He’s grown up so much,” Mycroft mumbled. “Despite everything. Despite Eurus...”

“She’s your sister too. Sherlock isn’t the only one affected by her.”

“He’s the one she’s so interested in. I’m 8 years older than her. And I couldn’t find my brother’s best friend.”

Greg dropped his hand on Mycroft’s shoulder in a cautious but comforting gesture. “Neither could your mother and she’s cleverer than you, is she not?”

Mycroft sighed, leaning forward to drop his head into hands. 

“I’ve messed everything up. All I wanted to do was protect my baby brother.”

“From your sister?”

“She was awful, Gregory.”

The DI knew they were getting nowhere so he moved his hand - that hadn’t been fought off - to under his arm to pull him upright. He knew Mycroft had rooms in his club. He worked late most nights, after all. 

“Come on,” he actually took his hand and led him to the back of the office, he knew he was going in the right direction because the government official hadn’t corrected him. 

***

Greg let himself into Mycroft’s quarters and dragged him straight to the bedroom. 

He paused slightly and looked Mycroft up and down as he hesitated. “Say no and I’ll put the kettle on and let you get changed... or leave,” he added, suddenly unsure. 

Mycroft blinked dumbly for a moment, then swallowed. “Yes,” he said eventually. “Definitely yes.”

Greg smirked and began tugging Mycroft’s tie all the way off. 

As if conscious thought had left Mycroft - for once - the government official slouched down onto the edge of the bed. “Can’t you go any quicker?” He mumbled. 

“Impatience, tut tut.”

Mycroft just let his dropped to his chest. He didn’t move until Greg started unbuttoning his shirt, starting from the bottom. He pushed the government official back onto the bed and knelt either side of his legs while he finished with the shirt. 

“This is probably a stupid question,” Greg’s voice was hidden behind Mycroft’s trousers as he disposed of them too. “But have you got any lube?”

The older man’s eyes were blank and it made Greg chuckle. “That’s fine. Kissing will have to do.”

With his own clothes dealt with, Greg let himself fall forward onto Mycroft’s chest and pressed his lips downward.

Mycroft met the kiss with passion. 

“Shit,” he hissed almost immediately. His eyes darted down his chest to his length that was hardening against Greg’s leg. 

The DI didn’t need to look down to see what was causing Mycroft a problem he could feel it. 

“Tut tut, Mr. Holmes.” Greg didn’t know why saying that to the British Government was so satisfying. 

At that, Mycroft took control of the situation and threw himself on top of the younger man. He pinned Greg to the bed and demanded a kiss of his choosing, deep and thorough. 

It was clumsy but Greg liked it, it was rather strange to find Mycroft clumsy of all things. 

“You seem exhausted,” the DI panted when Mycroft allowed his pursuit of his mouth to dwindle. 

“Yes, well... it’s been quite a day.”

“Few days. I doubt you slept much last night, what with your security redundant.”

“Can’t say I blame my little brother for that one,” he rolled over and stared at the ceiling, suddenly not interested in carrying on. 

Greg could clearly sense it because he reached out and took Mycroft’s hand in his own. “It’s ok to blame him, you know.” He was surprised the older man didn’t immediately pull his hand free. 

“But I don’t. I can’t. How can I?” Mycroft rolled to face the copper. “How can I possibly be mad at him?”

“He left you vulnerable. Even if he didn’t fully understand the possible threat your sister posed.”

Mycroft sighed. “There’s plenty of things for me to be angry at my little brother about, my little sister is not one of them. Any chance of that cup of tea now?” He didn’t care that he was in his own quarters, he just needed a moment to compose himself alone but without Greg leaving completely. 

Greg clearly sensed it because he nodded. “Of course. If you tell me which way the kitchen is.”

Mycroft gave him the route as he settled himself more comfortably in the bed. He watched the younger man go, as if seeing him for the first time. 

Sherlock had known the man years, years without him really knowing the first thing about the Holmes. What made them that way, why Sherlock could be such an arse hole... why they both could. And yet, he’d stuck around. For near on a decade. He’d supported Sherlock - stood by him - through all the Moriarty bollocks and here he was now supporting him through... well whatever this was, a mid life crisis perhaps?

Greg cleared his throat for the third time, he had stopped at the door a tray in his hands. He’d taken a while because he had paused to order take away for them both, something light that Mycroft would likely be able to keep down. Mycroft seemed lost in thought, he would say lost in his own head but he knew from experience he hated Sherlock’s ‘Mind Palace’. 

On the fourth attempt, Mycroft jerked out of wherever his brain had taken him and he smiled softly. 

“Thinking about anything special?” The DI asked as he settled the tray down on the nightstand and sat beside him. 

Mycroft turned and watched him for a moment before humming. “Yes. You.”


End file.
